


variation on the word (sleep)

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Established Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Simon Lewis Lives at Hotel Dumort, Sleepy Cuddles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, there is no pain here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10083671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: "You can stare at me later you complete sap, come'ere." Simon pats the bed, awaiting the slight dip of the mattress. Raphael remains where he is, adoring.Simon grumbles into his pillow about romantic vampires and kicking Raphael out to sleep on the sofa if he doesn't get his ass in bed.





	

 

* * *

 

The sun rises in the East and Simon closes his eyes to swirls of gold and orange. They play as a flipbook in his mind's eye though it has been four months since he has squinted against the brilliant rays of sunlight. His watch reads 07:05 a.m. and after a night of chasing ravenous monsters with Maia he's exhausted. He yawns, trudging toward a heavy black cherry door that's open per usual for his venturing in and out. 

Raphael is sat behind a desk, scratching inventory numbers on a paper with a ballpoint pen. His forehead is creased and the glass of AB+ Simon brought him hours ago has grown tepid, untouched. Let it never be said that the clan leader doesn't take his duties seriously. 

" 's morning," Simon mumbles, sleepily dropping his head to the back of Raphael's shoulder. He has never been a morning person, not as a mundane and certainly not as a vampire. Sleeping through it is ideal. 

Raphael knuckles his eyes sleepily and it's not fair that he looks incredible even when he's exhausted. Simon looks every bit the pale dark ringed vampire he is if he so much as misses one meal or has a poor time about resting. "Is it?"

Rather than replying, Simon takes him by the elbow and pulls him to his feet. His eyes feel weighted, sluggish as they make it to the master bedroom they share. The bed is made up in a sunny yellow comforter with tiny daisies on it (Raphael's surprise to Simon when he mentioned missing the sun) and no less than four fluffy pillows. Prior to Simon, Raphael had surrounded himself with them to make the bed feel occupied, less empty and never quite nipped the habit. 

* * *

 

They dress for bed - Simon with his faded Marvel shirt and flannel bottoms, Raphael also wearing one of Simon's shirts though he refuses to acknowledge he's fond of them. It's a sharp contrast to the rich black satin bottoms that likely cost more than the whole of Simon's pre-vamp closet. Bedtime Raphael is a mismatched combination of the two of them - Simon's geeky frumpiness and his own exquisite taste in clothing and it gives Simon a warm feeling. That's us he thought, two people who couldn't be more opposite but find love and comfort in the in between.

It should be noted that only the younger vampire is allowed to see Raphael without suit jackets that make him feel safe, bigger than he is. In the space of one ordinary room, he drops his pretenses, knowing he has no need to be on the defense. Simon knows the weight of that declaration as he himself plucks the  _I hate being dead, why am I fucking dead_chip from his shoulder in this space. 

-

 "Spoon," Simon murmurs, curling up dead center. 

Raphael takes a minute to admire how sweet and innocent his beloved fledgling appears in the midst of the massive four poster bed. He's breakable like this. Despite fangs and a weak hiss he is still trying to master, Simon is very small. 

"You can stare at me later you complete sap, come'ere." Simon pats the bed, awaiting the slight dip of the mattress. Raphael remains where he is, adoring. Simon grumbles into his pillow about romantic vampires and kicking Raphael out to sleep on the sofa if he doesn't get his ass in bed. 

Raphael cocks his head to the side, plush pink lips barely holding back a playful smirk, "You're welcome to sleep alone," he teases. Simon  _hates_ not sleeping in an actual bed and complained for a week straight about crashing on Raphael's sofa. Sure, it was luxury of the finest but that didn't change the fact that it was a  _sofa_. Eventually Raphael had enough, took Simon by the wrist and nudged him toward the bed. Their dynamic had shifted for the better that afternoon. 

Meanwhile, Simon buries himself under the blanket until only a tuft of hair remains as if he were a caterpillar in a protective chrysalis. "Good riddance, more room for me," he grumbles. He can totally sleep on his own, he's got this. Besides he won't have to worry about a rogue sleep heavy arm clocking him with an elbow, waking him from a nice rest in the rudest of manners. 

Because he's a stubborn man who can read Simon like a well thumbed through and dog-eared book, Raphael does not leave.

Rather, he crawls under the covers until he too is submerged in sunshine cotton. The soft glow of a lamp nearby filters light through and highlights the contours of Simon's face not unlike the flickering of a flame and Raphael cannot turn away. Simon is even more beautiful like this, he would be nearly incandescent in natural light and it's a shame he'll never know. 

The younger vampire nudges at Raphael until he flips over and gravitates until he's draping them both in a spoon position, cold nose tucked between the junction of shoulder and neck. Cuddling is more than merely touching; it's breathing in the clean scent of Raphael, feeling the angles of his back and hips as they press back against him, it's downright spiritual. The elder vampire takes the arm draped over him and curls it to his chest, hand clasping the back of Simon's. For him, the casual intimacy between them is akin to making love- to breaking down eternity into small fragments of time spent studying the swoop of his lashes, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs. If he had a soul it would feel full to bursting at the sight of Simon Lewis.

 

 "Mmm you were saying," he taunts. 

 "I hate you," Simon mumbles against cool skin. He doesn't mean a word of it. Somewhere along the way it has became their  _I love you._

Raphael burrows into him and if the younger vampire could see him he'd laugh at the dopey grin on his face. "I hate you too,  _querido."_  

-

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> apologies if this is a double post. I had it in edit and hit 'cancel' to ~not~ save the changes in the draft and it just poofed. thankfully I had it copied in google docs. 
> 
> anyways we deserve nice things, hope you all like this :) it can fit anywhere in the timeline tbh so squeeze it in wherever you want.
> 
> title is from "variation on the word sleep" by margaret atwood:  
> https://readalittlepoetry.wordpress.com/2005/12/10/variation-on-the-word-sleep-by-margaret-atwood/


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